Unbound
by Sonic Jules
Summary: Ninth Doctor and Rose ..... The Doctor thought that Rose was safe once he'd rescued her from the soldiers. But captivity can extend beyond a prison cell... Three chapters total.
1. Chapter 1

**Unbound**

**By** Sonic Jules

**Disclaimer:** Doctor Who and the characters of said show do not belong to me, no matter how hard I've wished for it. No infringement meant on the owners, nor BBC, and no monetary gain was made. Just having a little fun.

**A/N: **This was a challenge given to me by Catharicone, my friend and beta and spinner of masterful plots, all rolled into one. She provided the first several paragraphs of this 'challenge', several scenarios she wanted to see, and the title. Credits to her, though she's humbly refusing any of it.

**OoO**

**Chapter One **

**OoO**

The cold metal bit into the tender skin of her wrists, digging painfully through flesh to rub at bone. She'd kept on her feet as long as possible, trying to prevent the inevitable pressure that would come when her legs gave out. Rose wasn't sure how long it had been—days, perhaps—but finally she hadn't been able to stand any longer and had sunk down.

Her shoulders ached fiercely, and she wondered if they were dislocated. But that was far from the worst of her worries. Bones and muscles could be mended. A head severed from the body was another matter. Even the Doctor with his prodigious talents and intelligence couldn't fix that.

How much longer did she have? She didn't know, but the sound of voices in the dank hallway outside her cell told her that time was of the essence now, and the Lord of Time, her only hope for salvation, was nowhere to be found.

Beneath the wooden door which separated her from her captors, Rose saw a sharp flash of light, forcing her to close her eyes as she heard scuffling and moaning from the other side. She opened them again when she heard her name called.

"Rose!"

She tried responding, but her throat was raw, and the energy her effort took was all she had left to offer. Rose Tyler collapsed into blissful, pain-free blackness.

**OoO**

"Wha, wha's goin' on?" Rose asked, rousing into consciousness as she batted a hand away from her mouth.

"Shush, it's all right," the Doctor whispered, "but you've got to be quiet. Can you understand that, Rose?"

She nodded her head, comprehending the Doctor's meaning. Somehow he'd found her and freed her. She could feel his arms around her, and she knew he'd released her from the shackles, though she couldn't remember it happening. He held her as they both sat crouched on a hard cement floor, and she shivered, finally feeling safe. But she could see nothing - not even his hand in front of her face - and she began feeling the first tendrils of panic.

"Rose, it's all right, but you've got to be still. And quiet. They're out there," he whispered in her ear. "I'm going to get us out of here, but you have to remain calm." She felt him tense at the same moment she heard footsteps approaching; both stilled instantly, barely breathing and uttering not a sound.

Both she and the Doctor remained motionless, holding onto one another tightly as they listened to the men discussing their search for the missing prisoners. Rose's heart thudded against her chest; she recognized those voices. They were the awful men who'd taken pleasure in tormenting and hurting her. She closed her eyes tightly, wishing she could close her ears as well and simply will them to disappear. She buried her head against the Doctor's chest as he tightened his hold on her instinctively.

Then the voices faded, as did her thoughts, until the Doctor gently nudged her.

"Come on, Rose, we haven't got much time. Can you stand?" His voice was quietly urgent and she nodded her head against him, letting him know she could, she would: Anything to escape this bloody living nightmare.

She heard wood creaking and suddenly she saw light - not bright light, but the soft glow of the moon shining down upon her. She breathed in, recognizing fresh air and was feeling grateful for it until a stabbing pain tore through her chest, causing her to wrap her arms around herself protectively. That movement, in turn, caused a sharp pain down her left arm, which then brought her the benign numbness of unconsciousness.

**OoO**

The Doctor opened the cellar door, looking around carefully for any signs of the Barcelonan soldiers, sighing his relief at seeing none.

Hearing Rose's sharp intake of air, he looked down at her, noting her distress immediately. Her eyes met his then, but he could see the emptiness in her gaze as she slumped into his hold. She was injured, and a right bloody mess on top of it. He'd have to clean her up to see the extent of her injuries, but before that could be done, he had to find them shelter. No way would he be able to get her back to the TARDIS before dawn and its light returned to this world, illuminating them clearly for the soldiers to see and perchance to capture again.

Lifting Rose into his arms, he climbed the few stairs out of the cellar and disappeared quietly into the woods, beginning his search for some sort of sanctuary. He had to find a place for them to stay until night approached again, when hopefully the darkness would remain their ally.

**OoO**

Biting her lip, Rose suppressed the moan that crept up her gravelly throat, determined not to make a sound even though her pain was excruciating. She was moving, apparently not on her own, and her aching parts were being held too tightly as she was jostled around. But she had to be quiet, she remembered, though she couldn't quite recall why.

"Rose? You awake?" the Doctor asked, stopping his forward momentum to check on her. He could see she was closing her eyes tightly, but she did not answer him. "It's all right Rose," he assured her, "I've got you now. No one's gonna hurt you any more. I've got you," he reiterated, hoping to get through to her.

He began moving again, ignoring the ache in his arms and the worry in his heart. He could deal with them both later.

**OoO**

The Doctor lay Rose gently on the dusty camp bed, thankful to have found what appeared to be an old hunting shed for their refuge. He thought this an ideal location, for the soldiers would be searching down the mountain for their escaped prisoners, figuring they'd head back to town. The Doctor, however, was up above them, heading in the direction of his beloved TARDIS.

The authorities would send aircraft out as daylight broke, so finding this tiny retreat had been his greatest accomplishment since rescuing Rose. It was well hidden and had obviously been unoccupied for some time, no doubt used only in the winter months when the need for scavenging wildlife arose.

He stared at Rose's prone form, letting his thoughts wander. They'd have to stay here until nighttime wound its way up again, but that was a small price to pay for the safety he was finally able to provide for Rose. And, if by some small miracle his luck held, the Doctor would have Rose in the TARDIS by this time tomorrow, making all this just a distant, painful memory.

As if in alignment with the Time Lord's thoughts, Rose moaned hoarsely as consciousness brought awareness of pain. The Doctor knelt beside her instantly.

"Rose? Can you hear me? How 'bout you wake up now. No time like the present. I just need to have a look at you, make sure you're all right."

She moaned a little more in response to his words, and her eyelids fluttered then finally opened.

"Rose Tyler," he beamed, gently brushing her hair back from her face. "I missed those eyes. Good to see 'em again."

"Doc- Doctor," she whispered, the effort obviously painful.

"Shh. Hold on a second," he said as he stood, running over to a sink in the corner. He pushed down upon the rusted handle several times, but it only moved a little, creaking in protest to his proddings. He closed his eyes a moment in concentration, then pushed down again, mustering up the extra strength he needed to force the handle down completely. Quickly lifting it and depressing it once more, he actually smiled when water began spitting from the pipe.

Letting the water flow until it was clear, he grabbed a towel that hung round the bottom of the pipe and rinsed it thoroughly, then let it soak in the running water as he searched the cupboards above him, finding a tin cup in desperate need of cleaning.

He began rinsing the mug as he looked behind him. "Still with me, Rose?"

He watched her nodding and sighed with relief, cutting off the water as he brought the filled cup and dripping towel toward her.

Setting the towel down on the table beside the camp bed, he knelt beside her and wriggled his arm beneath her shoulders, urging her head upward. Rose's eyes flew open widely at the sudden pain the movement caused, and a quiet sob escaped her dry lips.

"I'm sorry, Rose. But you need fluids. C'mon, try and drink some of this," he said gently as he brought the cup to her mouth. Rose sipped obligingly, turning her head slightly when she'd had enough.

"That's good," he told her, slowly lowering her head back down. "I'm gonna clean you up a bit and see how you're doin'. Is that all right?"

Again Rose nodded, already exhausted from the little movement involved in the simple act of drinking.

"You can sleep if you like. I'm just gonna check you over," he said softly as he brought the wet towel to her face.

Her eyes remained closed as he began washing the dirt and blood away, revealing cuts and bruises as his hidden anger grew. He was quietly furious; those bastard soldiers had obviously abused her far more than she'd probably ever admit to.

He began a cursory examination of her skull with his fingers, his touch gentle as he felt for any signs of fracture or swelling. Another sigh of slight relief escaped him when he found none.

He continued on with his knowledgeable fingers, feeling for broken bones from her bare feet on upward. There were several deep abrasions he found on her shins and knees, easily cleaned through the tears in her jeans. She'd been beaten, no doubt from the soldiers' attempts to make her reveal who she was and what her purpose was in coming to this world. The number of injuries he'd found only attested to her strength; she hadn't said a word, obviously.

He stood, his hand resting over her forehead for a moment before he took the few steps needed to rinse the towel of the filth he'd removed. They'd kept her for almost two days. Forty-one hours of torturous pain she'd endured until he was finally able to free himself and find her.

Walking back and sitting himself down beside her on the bed, the Doctor began feeling Rose's arms from fingertips to shoulders, again perceiving no broken bones as he gently cleaned the abrasions. He wished the sonic screwdriver were working; it would have given him an insight into the injuries to which her body had been subjected. But the cleverly useful instrument had been banged up during his struggles with his captors, and it wouldn't work properly again until he could repair it. He was grateful it had worked long enough to free himself and Rose, but now it was useless. At least he had medical knowledge where humans were concerned, though it hardly seemed enough at the moment.

The Doctor shook himself from his morbid thoughts as he placed his hands on Rose's hips, moving them upwards as he assessed her torso. Though she'd slipped into slumber, when his gentle touch revealed two broken ribs, her eyes opened wide, and another moan escaping her lips.

"Why didn't you tell me your ribs hurt?" he remonstrated mildly, more angry with himself than with her. "There I was, bouncin' you round through the woods, holdin' on tight. Probably makin' the pain ten times worse. Could've punctured a lung with me holdin' you like that." He dropped his head to her chest, pressing his ear lightly over various spots, listening to her breathing for a good minute and a half. "Sounds like we got lucky on that one," he grinned in relief when his eyes met hers. "How're you feelin'?"

"Okay," she croaked, her raspy reply a wonderful sound, causing him to smile ear to ear.

"Rose Tyler. You are such a good liar." He reached down to the foot of the bed, grabbing up the two blankets that lay there. "Think you can sit up? I can prop you up with these," he told her as he rolled them up. "Should help you breathe a little easier."

"Yeah."

The Doctor reached for her left arm, gently pulling her up, but stopped suddenly when she cried out in pain. Immediately his hand went between her shoulder blades until she was sitting, and he held her like that until he had the blankets positioned supportively behind her.

Gently he felt around her upper arm and shoulder, noticing her rapid breathing, though she didn't make a sound. "Dislocated. We're gonna have to get it sorted, and the sooner the better. Rose, look at me," he softly commanded. When she did as he said, he brought a hand to her cheek, rubbing it with comforting strokes. "This is gonna hurt. And I think you've been through enough already," he said, his other hand resting on her other cheek. His index fingers began stroking her temples. "Sleep, Rose."

Her eyes closed immediately, and her breathing evened out. This was something he had to do. She'd all ready endured far too much pain because of him.

**OoO**


	2. Chapter 2

**Unbound**

**OoO**

**Chapter Two **

**OoO**

After laying Rose back down and quite literally shoving her arm back into it's socket, the Doctor sank down on the floor, his back against the bed. His hands were shaking as he wiped them on his jeans, the black denim a welcome friction. He stayed like that for a long time, his face showing the emotional war he was enduring within.

He had been in 'Doctor mode' as he'd removed her shirt and jeans, checking her over thoroughly. He'd examined every inch of skin on her body while she was still in the painless abyss into which he'd willed her. The sunlight that shown clearly through the windows now had revealed many more scrapes on her abused body; a small mark here and there on her arms, and bruises - many in the shapes of fingers - all over. But she hadn't been sexually assaulted, and that revelation had him cleaning her wounds, setting her arm in its socket, then redressing her numbly before he allowed himself to sink to the floor in utter relief.

He'd let her rest; her body needed it, obviously. He had no doubt she hadn't slept since they'd left the TARDIS, when she'd walked outside with him, her hand in his, ready to visit this world well-known for its friendly atmosphere.

The Doctor rubbed his hands over his face, remembering the exact moment that he'd realized he'd set the coordinates wrong. He slammed his palms to his forehead with disgust. He'd been so stupid! When the soldiers had approached them after they'd reached the small town, he should've kept his big mouth shut.

This was not the time for self recrimination, however. Rose was his main concern, and rightfully so, since her predicament was completely his fault. But none of that now. He needed to keep an eye on her, because she could have internal damage that he could not determine without at least having the sonic to use.

His lugubrious thoughts had kept him occupied for at least four hours, if his calculations from the sun's slow movement outside were accurate. It was time to bring her out of her forced slumber, and if she slept of her own free will after that, then so be it.

Raising himself from the floor, the Doctor rearranged Rose once again so that she was propped up a bit to help her breathing. Sitting beside her on the camp bed, he checked the make-shift sling he'd fashioned for her from a strip of blanket, making sure her shoulder was as comfortable as it could be under the circumstances. He then felt about her ribs, checking where he'd wrapped them with another few pieces of the tattered cloth. He leaned in and listened: her breathing was not strained.

Nodding to himself, he sat up and took a deep, long breath. He then placed his fingertips on her temples and closed his eyes.

Opening them again, the Doctor saw Rose looking at him. He smiled.

"Rose, how do you feel now?" he asked, letting his fingers fall from her face as his hands landed on either side of her hips.

She blinked a few times, then nodded. "Better, thanks." Her voice was still a bit raspy, but the rest she'd had seemed to help it strengthen, if only a little.

"Don't thank me," he said briskly, looking away from her as his grin faded quickly. "Sun's gonna be down soon. We can leave here at dark and be back at the TARDIS in a couple of hours. You, young lady, need to rest up as much as possible. We've got a lot of walkin' to do."

"You all right?" she asked, confused by his sudden change in demeanor.

"I'm fine," he answered, still looking out the window.

"What's this?" she asked, just noticing the sling as she lifted her arm slightly to indicate what she was talking about.

"Oh," he began, finally looking back towards her. "Your shoulder was dislocated, but I've reset it and you're gonna be fine, maybe a bit sore until I can get us back to the ship and sort it properly. The sling's just to make you more comfortable 'til we get back. How's it feel? All right?"

"Yeah," she nodded.

The Doctor bent down, retrieving the tin cup he'd refilled. "Drink this," he began, lifting the cup to her lips. "You're dehydrated. I need you to drink as much as you can before we head out."

Rose drank about half the cup before turning her head away.

"Enough for now?" the Doctor asked as he removed it, knowing her answer.

"Where are we?" she asked after clearing her throat.

"A little huntin' shack I happened upon after we got out of the camp."

"Camp?"

"Prison camp. Do you remember that, Rose?"

"Yeah. We got hauled away by those soldiers. Don't really remember us gettin' out of there, though."

"You were a little out of it. They roughed you up pretty good."

"I remember that," she said quietly, her eyes lowering to look at the hem of her shirt.

Rose looked up again as the Doctor's hand cupped her cheek. "You should get some more sleep. We've got a bit of a jaunt to make this evening, and I want you well rested."

"I'll be okay," she told him confidently. She turned her head away from him and closed her eyes.

The Doctor watched her as her body relaxed, giving in to the need for rest almost immediately. He sighed heavily then pushed himself off the bed, sitting back down on the floor beside it, elbows on his knees and face in his hands.

**OoO**

The Doctor presumed he'd nodded off, for the scream that echoed in the small shack had him literally jumping, tangling his limbs up a bit as he maneuvered himself quickly to his knees, spinning around to see Rose's tear-streaked face.

"Rose! You all right? What's wrong? What happened?" He was literally grabbing her head as he spoke, his fingers moving gently over her hair in concern.

"'M fine. Bad dream," she whispered, forcefully closing her eyes, as if trying to wipe an image away from her vision.

The Doctor moved to sit beside her, and as soon as he was seated Rose leaned away from him slightly, groaning at the effort it took.

"Rose? Am I hurting you?"

Her eyes flew open, and the first thing he noticed was their glassy appearance. The second thing he noticed was the rosy flush of her cheeks. Instantly his hands went to her face, one across her forehead, the other cupping her chin.

"You're burning up. Must've caught something in that rat trap of a confinement cell you were in."

Rose instantly pulled away from his hold on her. "I told you, I'm all right," she said quietly, though her tone was a bit harsh. He was sure her ribs were hurting after screaming like that.

The Doctor sat back, looking at her with an unreadable expression. "And I'm tellin' you, you're not. Your temperature's 102.3, give or take a tenth of a nudge. Either you've caught somethin' viral or ... no, I'm sure you just caught yourself a bug. Nothing to fret about. Just goes to show that your immune system bottomed out a little ... but we'll get it all sorted soon enough."

She seemed to sink back into the bed as her breathing evened out. He hoped it was because the pain from her outburst was receding, allowing her to relax, and not because she wanted to distance herself from him.

"So, some dream you had, was it?" he asked, standing suddenly and retrieving the towel from the bedside table. He took it over to the sink, pumping the handle so he could soak it. He quickly returned with the dripping cloth as he sat beside her again, patting it against her heated face and neck.

Rose shuddered slightly in response; whether it was from his unanswered question or his actions, he wasn't sure. But when she suddenly pushed him away with a strength he didn't think she was capable of, he was sure of one thing: She wanted him away from her.

"Rose?" He asked cautiously. "What's that about, then?"

"Jus', just get away from me. God, first you leave me alone for, forever with those, those animals, then you're hoverin' all over me jus' like they were! Leave me alone!" It had taken a lot of effort for her to spit those words out so venomously, and now she was trying to recover with short, quick breaths.

"Rose, stop. You're gonna hyperventilate. Slow breaths - slow ones. Come on, you've got to slow 'em down," he spoke softly, ignoring her outburst as he tried to comfort her.

"You left me. You left me there, with those nasty little men. Do you know they took shifts with me? Yeah, wanted to make sure I didn't sleep, hopin' I'd tell 'em who you were and why we were here. They said you'd escaped for a while before they captured you again. You jus' left me there. You didn't even know if I was dead or alive!" She was becoming hysterical, he could tell. Between not being able to breathe properly and the twisted memories of her captivity, then top it all of with her fever ...

"Rose, I never left you. Do you understand? I could never do something like that. They were just messin' around with your mind, tryin' to get you to talk. You're not thinkin' clearly or you'd know better."

"But why? Why would they tell me that stuff then? They showed me pictures of you. Out in the city's park, talkin' to some woman with blue skin, said they took 'em right before they grabbed you again and -"

"Rose, they either drugged you or fabricated those photos or both. I was in a cell not twenty feet from your own. I was never in any park, or talking to some female. And I'd never, ever leave you behind. Do you understand me, Rose?"

She continued to slow down her breathing, but as soon as it was controlled, she was talking to him again.

"I never dreamed you could do that to me, I mean, I thought we had somethin', you know, special," she whispered sadly. She was rather stunned when the Doctor grabbed her right arm and pushed the sleeve of her shirt up, examining more thoroughly a mark he'd seen earlier inside the bend of her elbow.

"There," he pointed out with his index finger. "The bastards injected you with something, and no doubt it helped you believe what you're sayin', so I'm not gonna hold it against you. But now we've got somethin' else to worry about, because I haven't the foggiest idea what they've drugged you with. Damn it."

The Doctor set her arm back down beside her then got up and began pacing the limited space within the abandoned shack.

"It's not my fault?" she questioned, watching him wander the room with hooded eyes.

"Course not. It's mine. I'm the one who set the coordinates wrong by three hundred years. I did it. I messed up."

"Yeah, but ..." she whispered, her voice fading as her eyes closed.

The Doctor turned sharply upon hearing her softening words. "Rose?" His voice sounded a bit panicked as he moved quickly beside her. "Rose?"

She mumbled a little in response to him calling her, but as the Doctor checked her vital signs, he realized that she'd only just fallen asleep again. She had no doubt worn herself out from that outburst just moments before. That compiled with her injuries and fever had him wondering just how she'd stayed awake as long as she had.

"But nothin'," he whispered, sitting beside her once more. He picked up the wet towel and began gently rubbing it along her face and neck. "This was entirely my fault. All of it. And I'm sorry, Rose. So very sorry. For it all."

**OoO**


	3. Chapter 3

**Unbound**

**OoO**

**Chapter Three**

**OoO**

The Doctor sat beside Rose until night had fallen, checking her temperature with his hand as well as bending over her to listen to her breathing, just to make sure she was all right. These actions were done too often to count, but with his guilt at their current predicament, it was literally something he had to do.

"Rose?" he finally inquired softly, his hand at her neck, thumb rubbing her chin. "Rose, it's time to wake up now."

"Don' wanna get up. Wanna sleep," she mumbled, bringing an affectionate grin to the Time Lord's face for a brief moment.

"Come on Rose, time to go home."

"Don' wanna go home. Wanna stay with you."

This time the Doctor did smile, humbled by her sleepy words.

"Oh Rose," he called in a sing-song voice.

Her eyes opened, and she looked at the Doctor for a moment, then smiled at him. "What's got you grinnin' like that?" she asked.

"You. Feelin' better?"

"Yeah, I think so. Is it time to go?"

"Yep. Night's fallen and I don't hear anyone around. Figured we might as well shove off and get to the TARDIS. All right?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Drink this up," he began, handing her a full cup of water, "and then we'll get started."

Rose drank the water and handed him the empty mug, then used her right arm to push herself up into a sitting position beside the Doctor. Though her enthusiasm pleased him, the pain he'd read clearly on her face from the movement did not.

"Slow and easy, Rose. You can't just jump up, thinkin' you're ready for a marathon. You wanna try standin' first?" he asked as he got to his feet, offering a hand to her.

She took his hand as she slid her legs over the side of the camp bed, taking a moment to catch her breath. Then she stood, her legs wobbly at best as the Doctor reached around her, supporting her at the hip with his firm hold.

"All right?" he asked.

Rose nodded, grimmacing at the pain the movement caused her two broken ribs, and trying to hide her discomfort as best she could. She was feeling very grateful that the Doctor was knowledgeable enough not to hold onto her anywhere near her ribs, though it seemed nearly everything hurt: every inch of skin and every muscle beneath it all. But she'd never tell him that.

"Breathe," he told her, and it was then that she realized she was actually holding her breath in an effort to assuage the pain somehow. She did as she was told, but the pain her actions unleashed, now accompanied by dizziness and sudden light-headedness, had her collapsing in his arms almost instantly.

The Doctor pulled Rose closer to him then lifted her carefully into his arms, worry clear in his tone as he called her name. She was unconscious again, but no matter; he'd get her to the TARDIS and heal her wounds. He owed her at least that much.

**OoO**

The Doctor walked briskly through the woods, moonlight poking through thickening clouds now and then to lighten his path towards the TARDIS.

Rose remained unconscious, which was probably best; at least she wouldn't feel the pain his movement would surely be causing her.

Suddenly the Doctor stopped and sniffed the air. He smelled smoke - but not that of fire, no, this was on an infinitely smaller level. He inhaled deeply. Nicotine. Cigarette smoke. Which meant ...

He heard the booted footsteps and searched his surroundings quickly, ducking himself and Rose behind a thick crop of brush. The soldiers were close: it had been a miracle that they hadn't seen him before he was able to hide. Apparently luck was on his side.

He stayed bent down, Rose secure within his arms, and dared not even breathe when the team walked by. That was when Rose began to rouse into consciousness, a whimper escaping her lips before the Doctor realized what was happening.

The search party came to an abrupt halt, having heard the unmistakable sound of a woman in distress. Thier flashlights began skimming through the bushes and trees, and the Doctor bent down further, completely covering Rose with his body.

"Rose," he whispered. "don't make a sound." His impossibly quiet words were spoken very slowly and urgently, and she nodded, acknowledging him.

The Doctor's luck was apparently still holding after all, for as one of the men moved his beam of light into the wooded brush just opposite of the Doctor's hiding place, a high-pitched scream, followed by a small creature resembling that of an Earth hyena tore through the quietness, making the soldiers first jump, then chuckle nervously. Satisfied that the noise they'd heard had come from the animal, they continued their trek, moving away from the Doctor.

It was a good three minutes before the Time Lord began feeling confident enough to speak.

"It's all right, Rose. I think they're gone." That being said, he finally stood, realizing his injured companion was unconscious once more. It was ironic, that. But no matter. It was simply another nudge of encouragement to get Rose to the safety of the TARDIS and repair her injuries.

**OoO**

Rose awoke to bright white lights and walls. She looked around the room, soon realizing that she was in the TARDIS Infirmary. At first she was clueless as to why she was here, but then the memories flooded her mind with sights and sounds, and she closed her eyes tightly against the onslaught. When she opened them again, she was face to face with a smiling Doctor.

"Good morning, Rose Tyler! Sleep well?"

"I, um, yeah. I s'pose?"

"You've been asleep for six whole hours and all you can say is you s'pose? Take a deep breath, Rose. A really, really deep breath."

Rose looked at the Doctor for a moment then did as he said, grinning when she felt no pain. Then she lifted her left arm, noting the soreness was gone. "Wow, you fixed me!" she exclaimed.

His facial expression clearly showed how relieved he was from her statement. "Almost. Got rid of your fever, used a bit of regenerative gel on the muscles around your shoulder, and healed your ribs. But I still need to use the dermal regenerator on your cuts and bruises. I was just waitin' for you to wake up. I wanted you to sleep a little before I started that."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Machine's a little loud. Didn't want to disturb your beauty rest."

Rose smiled warmly. "We're back," she said, stating the obvious.

"Yeah. You just noticin' that now? Maybe I should check you over a little closer. Might've knocked your head or somethin'."

"I noticed it before. Just was wonderin' how that happened."

"I carried you back here after it got dark. You weren't strong enough to make the trip on your own." His expression darkened for a moment, and then it was gone, as if a memory had troubled him and he quickly tucked it away.

"Thanks."

Rose waited for the Doctor to respond, but he didn't, instead focusing his attention on the computer behind him, his back now facing her.

"Doctor? Are you all right?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah, been better though," she told him honestly, feeling what was likely to be a migraine coming on.

"I reckon so. But you'll feel even better soon, I promise you that." He turned and smiled confidently at Rose, but she could see it wasn't genuine. And he was way too quiet for her comfort as he began using the dermal regenerator on her wrists, removing the ugly bruises and cuts and their lingering pain. "Doctor?"

"Yeah?" he replied, seemingly concentrating on his task.

"So how come they didn't find us? You said before that their technology was close to that on present-day Earth, right?"

"Yep. Close, but not quite there yet, lucky us. They had airplanes flyin' round and soldiers here and there lookin' for us, but luckily they haven't developed heat sensors and the like. So they couldn't actually see us unless it was with their very own eyes," he smiled a bit smugly. "There. All done," he declared, setting the dermal regenerator on the counter behind him. "How's that feel?"

Rose lifted her wrists up above her and looked at them, flexing her hands into fists and twisting them about. "They feel lots better. Thanks."

"Fantastic!" he replied, finished with the last of her injuries. "You're head's gonna hurt, probably already is an' you're just not sayin' anythin' about it, but that's to be expected from that injection they gave you. If it get's to be too much, tell me."

She nodded. "So, Doctor," Rose began, "they didn't have heat detectin' thingies to find us with, but don't they have other stuff, like dogs that could've sniffed out our trail and lead 'em straight to us?" she asked, trying to concentrate on their conversation rather than the throbbing of her head that she wasn't about to mention.

"Nope. Barcelona, remember? Dogs with no noses!" he answered excitedly, talking over his shoulder to her as he skimmed through the readouts on the Infirmary's computer screen. "Shame you won't remember any of this, but no bother, sometime later I'll offer to take you there again, and I'll make sure the date's just right so you'll have better times to remember instead of this one. No more landin' in the middle of their civil war."

The Doctor typed in a few things on the keyboard below the computer monitor, waiting a moment until a bell chimed from its speakers. He then opened a drawer below it and pulled out a syringe. Tapping it lightly as he pushed the plunger in just a little to release an air bubble, he smiled when he turned back around to Rose, who was watching him with abject fascination. Then she frowned.

"Wait a minute. You think that you can just wipe my memories of this and it's just gonna be all better? Just like that? Who died and made you God?!"

"You almost did," he answered quietly, looking suddenly distraught. Just as quickly though, that look disappeared.

"I'm not doin' anythin' to make your memories go away" he continued. "It's the drug they injected you with when you were first captured. I figured out what it was; it's called Urynthium. Usually leaves the system within seventy-two hours give or take a few, and with it, all memories from those three days as well. The way I figure it, by the time you wake up in the morning, after I give you this nice little supplemental cocktail filled with nutrients and electrolytes and just a touch of sedative to ensure you rest properly, it won't even be a distant memory."

He injected her with the solution before she had a moment to voice any objections, and watched as the sedation part of the mixture took effect quickly, her eyes closing before she could form another word from her slightly parted lips.

He gently cupped her cheek, grinning down at her peacefully sleeping face. "I want to give you as many good memories as I possibly can," he whispered. "And I will, Rose Tyler, I promise. Cross my heart."

**OoO **

**Epilogue**

**OoO**

Rose watched as the Doctor transformed before her very eyes, fear ripping through her thoughts as he literally changed from the only Time Lord she'd ever known into someone totally different. He'd told her he was going to change - warned her to stay back while it was happening - but this was far too much for her to absorb. He was alive, but it wasn't _him_. Her body was literally shaking from the shock of it all; her mind going numb.

He said something about new teeth, this stranger in her Doctor's clothing, and then asked a question to himself before looking directly at her.

"Ah yes!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Barcelona!"

Rose stood there, still as stone, the memories all coming back like a tidal wave, engulfing her with renewed thoughts of fear and pain. All from a little planet called Barcelona, where a civil war thrived and she'd been captured and tortured, then finally saved by the man this stranger had replaced.

Suddenly the sight of her Doctor transformed wasn't nearly as shocking as her memories of horrors long forgotten. It would change her, far more than his transformation ever could.

**The End.**

**OoO**


End file.
